Thou Noble Thing
by piginapoketuesday
Summary: Martius and Aufidius team up to march on Rome, but curiosity over their attraction toward one another leads to an experiment in submission. I wasn't about to attempt to write this all in Shakespearian language, so the first scene, which is from Act 4, Scene 5 of Shakespeare's Coriolanus, is in a slightly more modern dialogue. While all of this is consensual, the two men at first


"You know me. I am Coriolanus; a name I earned from the blood of your city. This is the only name that matters now."

Aufidius' servant drew a knife behind the general. He gripped it tightly in a two handed fist, poised to stab Martius between his shoulder blades should his master give the signal.

Martius felt the tension at his back and knew his life rested in the uncertain eyes of his enemy. "I've come to you, Aufidius, to offer a choice. Take my service in the vengeance of your dead upon Rome, or cut my throat. My life matters very little to me, and it is in your hands."

Martius tilted his chin upwards, exposing his neck to the Volsces general. He could hear his mother's voice in his head: "You coward; the Volsces bastard will have your life, and most importantly, your pride! Fool!"

In rebellion, he spread his arms and knelt: a gesture of ultimate submission.

Aufidius approached him slowly, teasing his victim's birth name on his tongue. "Oh, Martius, Martius."

Coriolanus watched him nervously, a pit of anxiety growing in his stomach as Aufidius took the dagger from his servant and moved behind him. He couldn't breath when he felt the rough hand beneath his chin, but his confusion at the soft, possessive lips at his forehead spared him a moment of fear.

"Brave, noble Martius!" Aufidius howled, and he drew the knife across the Roman's throat, barely missing his flesh.

Martius gripped his neck in confusion as his would-be murderer stepped away and faced him once more. His heart raced, pounding against his fingers.

"I've dreamed of holding you for so long. Your strength is beyond compare. I can't kill you." Aufidius moved to kneel in front of Martius, and he gripped his arms, pulling him into an embrace.

Martius, confused as ever, allowed the other man to continue.

Aufidius pulled back, strong hands on Martius' shoulders. "I want you. Your body. Your love. Have me." He leaned forward and caught the general's lips in a kiss that was both forceful and tender.

A hot blush crept along Martius' neck and cheeks, but it warmed him ever so slightly to this man. The thought of relations with his enemy, certainly, had crossed his mind, and regardless, this way he'd have his vengeance on Rome.

Aufidius broke away and stood, impassioned. "I love my wife, Martius. But you...I've had dreams about you."

The blush deepened, hot at the base of Coriolanus' neck, and also, half-welcomed, below his belt. He stood to be level with this man who saw him as greater in strength, but equal in touch.

"I've dreamed about us, in bed together, hands against each other's throats," he gripped Martius' neck and allowed the latter to do the same in a wild retaliation, "fucking until we came." He released Martius with a small caress.

"Partner with me," he stabbed his thick fingers into Martius' stomach, "Together we can march on Rome and have our revenge!"

Relief filled Martius, and he embraced Aufidius with all of his strength. "Thank the gods!"

Martius shivered, his hands tied behind his strong, naked body to a smooth wooden post. Aufidius moved about in front of him, fiddling with the cuff on his wrist in excitement but forcing calm into his face. Martius knew he had asked for this; asked for the man before him to do what he pleased with his body before their march, to satisfy both their curious lusts in whichever way he deemed fit. He hadn't expected to be tied, but had submitted, stripping for the general and allowing him to rope his wrists behind him. He felt splayed and open with his shoulders forced back and hands useless. His quivering legs remained tightly closed. Having never had a man touch him intimately, he was afraid of Aufidius' calloused fingers handling his sex, and at the same time, exhilarated.

"Martius, Martius," Aufidius trilled, moving toward him, "My hands itch to touch you. But where to start? Perhaps your delicate mouth."

As the commander leaned against him, he heard himself almost yelp, "Pa-" but he stopped before finishing the word. They'd agreed prior that only one word would stop Aufidius' delving fingers; would still his tongue; would bar his cock from Martius' body. In fear and uncertainty of what was to come, he'd almost stopped the whole ordeal.

Aufidius paused, his hand on Martius' chest and his lips a half breath from the general's chin. "I won't force you-"

"No," Martius said, his eyes meeting the other man's in defiance. "Have your way with me."

A rough, masochistic smile touched Aufidius' lips, and he spoke with breathy venom against Martius' neck. "Your throat to me, to do me service," he cooed, possessively, kissing the flesh and reveling in the jump of a nervous vein beneath the skin.

Martius could scarcely bear the soft lips, but he raised his chin to give his new lover better access, leaning against the post. When he felt the tongue in the hollow above his collar bone, his hand reached instinctively for his sword that was not there, the sensation bringing new meaning to vulnerability.

Aufidius laughed gently against his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple and pulling an involuntary moan from Martius. "Has your wife heard these sounds," he murmured.

"My-" but Martius' voice was cut off as a meaty hand gripped his intimate parts. Fear and embarrassment flushed his cheeks. "Please," he begged, so unsure of what he wanted.

Aufidius crushed his mouth with his own, trading breath as his tongue ravaged the general. His thumb stroked across the tip of Martius' bare cock. The Volscian man felt the groan of Martius' submissive pleasure in his own mouth, and it was so sweet, so pure and taken, that it required all of his strength to keep from whimpering in answer.

He swallowed his lust. "Enjoying my hand, are we?" The taunt was punctuated by a slow, deliberate stroke of the weeping member in his fist.

Martius threw his head back. "Please-"

"Ah," Aufidius said cruelly, "Rome's greatest general, begging me. But for what, I wonder? He is but a slave to my touch-"

Pride surged wildly in Martius' chest and he lurched forward, eyes locked fiercely with his captor and hands caught in his bindings. "I am no one's slave," he hissed.

Aufidius swirled a single finger around the sensitive tip of his prick, and he nearly doubled-over with need. He gripped Martius' chin and forced their eyes to meet once more. "Are you not?"

Martius sucked in a desperate breath. "Let me feel your mouth, Aufidius," he ordered.

The Volsces man toyed roughly with a nipple and slipped his hand over the curve of Martius' ass. "So demanding! But what should I expect from such a man? The throats and bowels of my country so long at your mercy...I suppose it is me who should beg for your pardon. Isn't that right, my dear, noble, Coriolanus?" The venom in his voice was clear as he squeezed the Roman's sack violently in his thick fingers.

Martius gasped in pain, baring his teeth. He felt the familiar tongue at his corded throat, and he could bear the tantalizing seduction no longer. "I kill for country," he snarled, "And you, with your wanton fantasies of my torture, are a weak, lustful child! Tied, at your mercy, my body reacts as it would to a woman's tease!"

"You asked for my touch," Aufidius spat. He gripped his lover's throat in anger. "You have the blockade on your tongue, but you won't say it. You crave my fingers!"

"You stroke me and leave me like a forgotten dog!" he howled.

"Yes," Aufidius sneered, catching the other's mouth in a brutal kiss, "And you moan for it! Say "Pax", you sniveling boy, and have your peace, or beg me for your pleasure!"

When Martius gave no sign of wishing to stop, the Volsces general knelt, and without pretense, he ran his tongue down the full length of the underside of Martius' cock.

"I-" the soldier had lost his bearings.

"Beg," Aufidius whispered, hot breath against his submissive's most intimate parts. "Beg for me."

Martius could not clear his head. "Please," he whimpered, "Please, I can't-"

"What is it you want?"

"Touch me," he breathed, so needy it was almost a sob. "Suck me, you bastard!"

"That's hardly-"

"I BEG you!" Martius whimpered, legs opening to the general.

Aufidius laughed low in his throat. He leaned into the Roman's hot sex, tonguing the flushed skin, his forehead against the quivering belly. Slowly, he trailed his open lips down the length of the erect member and finally teased the cock into his mouth, letting his breath create an atmosphere of lascivious heat.

Martius felt himself slip easily down the Volscian throat. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt with his wife. Where she was tender, Aufidius was consuming. His every pore ached for his enemy's touch. He longed to be gagged by the general's fingers and tongue. The heat coiling in his stomach was an intensely welcome anguish. No one had ever wielded power over him; made him feel taken and depraved. He let out a whine so full of lust that Aufidius had to adjust his swelling erection and clench his fists against the involuntary surge of pleasure.

He gasped when the mouth twitched as if to bite, the teeth just barely grazing his member. Aufidius could not stifle his moan as the cock quivered in his throat.

"You're feigning indifference, but I can feel you shaking," Martius accused as the hot cavity fucked itself on his prick. "You need to be touched. You-gods! Gods, Aufidius, please! Please!"

Pleasure built to an unbearable height in his stomach, and he screamed as he unraveled in his lover's mouth.

He slumped forward, chest heaving, as he was swallowed down one last time and release from the man's lips.

Martius closed his eyes, satiated, and accepted those same lips as they took his mouth in a bracing kiss.

"Recover quickly, love," Aufidius ordered huskily. "Now its my turn."

Hours into the night, Aufidius used the last of his potent energy to slice away the bindings that kept his lover still and waiting. He placed a gentle hand on the Roman's chest to steady him.

Martius knelt slowly, rubbing his wrists and leaning into Aufidius' touch. Upon request, a servant placed a bowl of water beside the two of them and left silently.

"Drink," Aufidius commanded, bringing the bowl to Martius' lips and tipping it forward just slightly. Finding himself parched and exhausted, Martius drank half the bowl and forced himself to stop despite his thirst.

"You, too," Martius said in a low, weary voice. Aufidius drank, and when the bowl was empty, he set it next to their bodies and pulled the general's head against his abdomen.

"My lover," Aufidius cooed, wrapping Martius in his arms, "Rest now."


End file.
